A serpent symbol, wrapped around a wind chime
                                                    surreal focus, all in time
                                          held on the otherside, now denied
                                                       in an olde time rhyme
                                                      you dropped that dime
                                      with no hesitation, very little preservation
                                            all for a quick taste of devastation
                                                           so pale, so frail
                                            blocking all serious concentration
                                               for an hour, Great Anticipation
                           when the Witch is at the door, like the window before
                                         patient, content and always hell-bent
                                         to conjure my new shadow, you know
                                             up off the floor, like a dirty whore 

                           "  . . .  TAKE ANOTHER HIT !!  YOU DESERVE IT !! . . . " 

                                   This steam-driven dream, with the torn seem
                                               the razor's edge,  coffin ledge
                                               hits me harder, like a sledge
                                           slam-split, divided by your wedge
                                                       Oath or a Pledge ?
                                                      never meant a thing
                                                   now what song to sing ? 
                                                 for your soul, for your hole
                               the Witch knows what to bring, to throw in the ring 

                              " . . .  I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO ANYONE,
                                          IT ALL JUST KIND OF HAPPENED . . .  "                  

                                          this part of the play, taking the day
                                                       into another night
                                        you so desperately want to go away
                                    with them in mind, should be easy to find
                                                        heart and desire
                                           crushed in the fire of the grind
                                             then confined and redefined
                                        spiralling upfront and from behind
                                  know full well, the warrant's been signed

                           " . . .  HOW ABOUT A HANDJOB FOR THE ROAD ?!   
                                                                     ~  NO ~
                                          HOW ABOUT ONE FOR ME THEN ?!! . . . "

                                                lost power that comes along
                                              simply charms me, alarms me
                                                     whether right or wrong
                                          in another song or just out to harm me
                                                   my paranoia re-arms me
                                                  lots of guns, various ones,
                                     murderous thoughts delivered by the tons
                                    a variety of drug runs, watching dying suns
                                         life's full of irony, doubt and sick puns
                                                  It's all . . .  It's all about me
                                           so now you see, in this darker hour
                                                    where it's best to cower
                                           in a semi- dream, where she'll scream
                                            about her reign of worthless power
                                                               She's a flower
                                                          I'm a weed, in need
                                              of all her . . .  whatever, for forever

           " . . .  IF YOU 'RE NOT CONFUSED,  YOU DON"T GET ME AT ALL . . . "
      
                                                         Bleed on my seed
                                             to bring about more delusions
                                                  while bending an illusion
                                                  held back from the attack
                                               based on loose conclusions
                                             from the stage, actors in a cage
                                                     some sad, some glad
                                                      some half-in-the-bag
                                                     is it a prank or a gag ?
                                             turn the crank, walk the plank
                                         while struttin' on down to the bank
                                            passed the best, then the rest
                                               and it's you I have to thank
                                                    so roll on like a tank
                                                       around the bend
                                                        to the bitter end
                                                       this is fading fast
                                                       farewell my friend

                " . . .  OH AND AHHHH . . .   YEAH . . .  SOMETHIN' LIKE THAT . . .  "